CULTURAL DIALECTICS october 1997 / planet of the arts 25 Journeys bestow a gift greater than answers — questions. — Irshad Manji Text and images by Rand Berthaudin ver since Cecil Rhodes and Dr. Livingstone immortalized themselves in African geography there has been a relentless curiosity in the West about traveling to Africa. It would now appear that no corner of Joseph Conrad’s dark con- tinent (The Heart of Darkness) or Karen Blixen’s coffee fields (Out of Africa) is without some evidence of tourism. In fact, it is writers such as these that have done much to fuel the imaginations and desires of the modern tourist. I, for one, was one of them. Seduced by an imaginary world far beyond my perceptual borders, I sought the exoticism of unknown lands. And as I stood somewhere between the Chalbi and the Koroli desert in Northern Kenya, hundreds of miles from where the black- top and electricity had dropped away, I discovered, to my astonish- ment, perhaps the world’s most recognized consumer product for sale, Coca-Cola. This was, to me, a testament, not only to the far- reaching determination of a free-market model in action (even Rhodes would be envious), but to the natural propensity for people to exchange. It was here, where only the hardiest of multinationals carve out ‘emerging’ markets, that I found myself, Coke in hand, being sold a piece of local tourist art from a Turkana tribesman. While the intersection of these two events seems remarkable to me now, the significance of this exchange would not strike me for quite some time. It was several years until I gradually began to ask myself difficult, and often contradictory, questions around the mean- ing and value of tourist art and just what the exchange might have meant. TRYING TO DEFINE TOURIST ART Whether we have gone to the other side of our country or to the other side of the world, we have all been tourists at one time or another. And it would not be an overstatement to suggest that nearly every household in the industrialized world owns some form or other of tourist art (or ‘airport art’ as it is sometimes called) — blankets from Mexico, origami from Japan, batiks from Indonesia... the list is endless. The question is, what is tourist art? Why do we buy these objects? And what are the meanings of these exchanges? I suggest that tourist art oscillates somewhere between the com- mon souvenir and our sanctified “high art.” Tourist art tends not to be mass produced, and in most cases contains some evidence of the human imprint. That is to say, it is ‘made by hand’ For instance, a ceramic bowl made entirely by a machine for WalMart seems to have an altogether different set of values and expectations, for us the con- sumers, than a ceramic bowl produced by an artist in New Mexico using small scale and low volume technology, e.g., a potter’s wheel. What is it that we tourists find so appealing about objects pro- duced in such ways? And how do these objects “speak” to the tourist? To answer these questions about motivation and perception we first need to consider the notion of “being a tourist”. The dictionary defines a tourist simply as a person who travels for pleasure. ' While this may be partly true, it seems to presume that travel is nothing more than a form of entertainment. In a culture that now spends 200 million dollars producing a movie for our amusement, perhaps this is more than a little true. Certainly, it is no coincidence that the inven- tion of “leisure time” and the rise of mass tourism parallel the histo- ry of modern industrial society. Alexander Wilson in The Culture of Nature argues that “like a tin of fruit cocktail, the promise of the hol- iday experience has been manufactured out of the material and ideo- logical resources available to contemporary culture”? Is the tourist just a byproduct of an often alienating post-indus- trial popular culture, merely searching for an escape anywhere it can be found — e.g. movies or holidays? Maybe. But we must remember that humans have travelled to distant lands for as long as they have walked the planet, often choosing not return to their places of origin. This is how the world was populated after all — by a kind of migra- tion-cum-tourism, or should that be tourism-cum-migration. We seem to have an innate urge to explore what is on the other side of the cultural and ideological fence that surrounds us. We only have to look at ourselves to get a sense of the universality of this desire. Most of us are not “from” where we now call “home”. In the big picture, perhaps none of us are. Some of us arrive well before others, but we are all immigrants nonetheless. The reasons for touring may differ drastically, but tourism as a concept has existed for centuries if not millennia. Early Christians, for example, would undertake lengthy pilgrim- ages, traveling hundreds of kilometers, to reach places of theological significance. At these religious destinations, typically churches of important saints, they would purchase ‘tokens of devotion’. These objects were supposedly blessed by priests, and in some cases were alleged to be parts of the saints themselves, e.g., locks of hair. (Sounds like a tourist scam to me!) For these religious tourists, such tokens became important and poignant references of homage and place. Today, however, it seems that most of our tours are overwhelm- ingly unreligous and void of meaning. Or are they? Maybe in some way we too are on a sort of secular pilgrimage to destinations thought, or at least hoped, to offer enlight- enment, self-knowledge, and — dare I say — spirituality (although not in the organized religion sense of the term). Maybe the acquisition of the tourist object is a symbol or index of our highly personalized life experiences. It is possible to find meaning in tourist art in the same way that we find meaning in a river stone picked up while walking along the shoreline. Meaning is not inherent in the object itself, but in what lies beneath the object, in its relationship to our ‘memories’ of experi- ence, sense of self-worth, and personal destiny. In many ways, tourist art reveals more about ourselves than it does about the artists who produce it. The meaning we find in these objects not only mirrors who we are as people, but can go on to inform our daily lives, our careers and our relationships. Tourist art, like the crucifix or the river stone, remains an allusive object which, despite its aesthetic value, is not bound by culture or time, but embodies instead some sense of one’s own experiential history and one’s own ephemeral life. Unlike the river stone, however, tourist art remains a.commodity of trade in which a mutually accepted exchange takes place. If for a moment we operate from the assumption that tourist art is an exchange of currency between two cultures, albeit from different motivational starting points, the production and trade of tourist art as a commodity has existed well before France had a Disney Land or sub-Saharan Africa was colonized. Years before the European colonialists penetrated the continent, African nations had established overseas trade with both European and Asian nations. As early as the sixteenth century ivory carvings from the west coast of Africa were made for export purposes.” continued on next page... CULTURAL DIALECTICS ‘october 1997 / planet of the arts 25 Out of Africa Is Iourneys bestow a gift rete than answers ~ questions Irshad Manji ‘Text and images by Rand Berthaudin themselves in African geography there has been a relentless curiosity in the West about traveling to Ais ewould now appear that no comer of Joseph Conral’s dark con ‘nent (The Heart of Darkness) or Karen Blxe's coffee Bld (Out of Africa is without some evidence of tourism, In fact itis writers sch ‘as these that have done much to fuel the imaginations and desires of the modern tours. 1s for one, was one of them. Seduced by an imaginary world far ‘beyond my perceptual borders, sought the exaticism of unknown lands And as I stood somewhere between the Chalbi and the Koro desert in Northern Kenya, hundreds of miles fom where the Black- top and electricity had dropped away, I discovered, to my astonish ment, pethaps the world’s most recognized consumer product for sale Coca-Cola. This was, to me, a testament, not only tothe fa reaching determination of a fre-market model in action (even Rhodes would be envious), but to the natural propensity for people to exchange. It was here, where only the hardest of multinationals E= since Cecil Rhodes and Dr. Livingstone immortalized ‘arve out ‘merging’ markets, that I found myself, Coke in hand, beng sola piece of local tourist ar rom a Turkana tibesman. ‘While the intersection ofthese two events seems remarkable to ime now the significance of this exchange would not strike me for quite some time. It was several years until gradually began to ask ‘myself dificult and often contradictory, questions around the mean ing and valve of tourist att and just what the exchange might have TRYING TO DEFINE TOURIST ART Whether we have gone tothe other side of our country o tothe other sie of the word, we have all een tourists at oe time or another ment to suggest that nearly ‘very houschold in the industrialized world owns some form o of tourist art (or ‘aitport art as iis sometimes called) ~ bank from Mexico, origami fom Japan, batik rom Indonesia. the Hist is endles, The question i, whats tourist art? Why do we buy these objects? And eat ate the meanings of thes exchanges? 1 suggest that tourist art oscillates somewhere Betwsen the com mon souvenir and our sancti “igh at” Tourist art tends not to tbe mass produced and in most cases contains some evidence ofthe human imprint, That sto say, it i"made by hand’ For instance, ‘ceramic bowl made entirely by a machine for WalMart seems to have an altogether diferent set of values and expectations for us the on mer, than a ceramic bowl produced by an artist in New Mexico sing smal sale ad low volume technology, eg, potters eel What i it that we tourists find so appealing about objects pro duce in such ways? And how do these objects speak” to the tours? hese questions a motivation and perception we first need to consider the sotion of “being a tours The dictionary defines tourist simply as a person who travels for pleasure! While this may be partly true it sems to presume that travel is nothing ‘more than a form of entertainment. Ina culture that now spends 200 rillion dollars producing a movie fr our amusement, perhaps this ‘amore than ait tru. Certainly its mo coincidence that the inven sm paral! he histo ty of modern industrial society: Alexander Wilson in The Culture of Nature argues that “like tin of eit cota the promise ofthe ol ay experience has been manufactured out of the material and ideo Jogical resources availble o contemporary elture [sth tourist just a byproduct ofan often alienating pos-nds tral popular culture, merely scarching for anes be found ~ ig. movies or holidays? Maybe. But we must remember that humans have travelled to distant lands for as lng a they have walked the planet, often choosing not return to their places of righ This is how the world was populated afterall - by a kind of migra 'ion-cum-toursm, or should tha be tourism-cum- migration. ‘We seem to have an innate urge to explore what ison the other side ofthe cultural and ideological fence that surrounds us We only have to look at ourselves to get a sense of the university of this desire. Most of us re not "fom where we now cll"home" Inthe big picture, perhaps none of us are. Some of us arrive well before others, bout wear all immigrants nonetheless. The reasons for touring may iter drastically, but tourism asa concept has existed for centuries if not millennia aly Christians, for example, would undertake lengthy pli: ag, traveling hundreds of kilometers, to reach places of theological significance. At thee religious destinations, typically churches of important saints, they would purchase ‘Tokens of devotion: These objects were supposedly Besed by priests, and in some cases were alleged tobe parts ofthe suits themselves, eg, locks of hat. (Sounds like a tourist scam t0 me!) For these religious tourists, such tokens became important and poignant references of homage and place ‘Teday, however, it sems that most of our tours are overwhelm {ingly unreigous and void of meaning, ‘Or are they? Maybe in some way we too ae ona sort of secular pilgrimage to destinations thought, or atleast hoped to oer enlight cenment, elknowledge, and ~ dare I say ~ spirituality (although not {nthe organized religion sense of the term). Maybe the acquis the tourist object is symbol or index of our highly personalized life ion of “Tourist Art” the Real Thing? experiences. Its possible to find meaning in tourist art inthe same way that we find meaning in river stone picked up while walking along the shoreline. Meaning snot inherent in the objet itself but in what ies beneath the object. i its relationship to our memories of expeti- ence, Sense of self-worth, and personal destiny-In many way tourist, at revels more about ourselves than it does about the artists who produce it.The meaning we find in these objects not only who we areas people, but ean go on to inform our dally ives, our careers and our relationships. Tourist ar like the crucifix or the river stone, remains anallsve object which, despite its aesthetic value is rot bound by culture or time, but embodies instead some sense of ‘one's own experiential history and one's own ephemera life Unlike thevver stone, howeves, tourist art remains a commodity of trade in which a mutually accepted exchange takes place If for moment we operate fom the assumption that tourist arti an ceachange of currency between two cultures, albeit from different ‘motivational stating points, the production and trade of tours art 8a commodity has existed well before France had a Disney Land or sub-Saharan Afica was colonized, Years before the European colonialist penetrated the continent, African nations had established overseas trade with both European and Asian nations. As catty a Sinteenth century ory caving fromthe west coast of Alia were made for export purpose?”